


Balm

by VerdantVulpus



Series: Challenges and Short Prompts [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fire, Gen, Guess the Author fic, Intrusive Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantVulpus/pseuds/VerdantVulpus
Summary: He wouldn't say he’d made friends with fire, but he'd certainly made peace with it.So it came as a bit of a rude surprise that of all the fresh horrors that could be inflicted upon him, he'd once again be haunted by fire.Or,Crowley finds a creative way to deal with his intrusive thoughts.
Series: Challenges and Short Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2215671
Comments: 13
Kudos: 33
Collections: GOFWW Guess the Author Round 1





	Balm

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution for GOFWW discord server's Guess the Author event, (Round 1)  
> The prompt was "Burn".

The water was cold enough to sting when Crowley slid into it, but he plunged deeper regardless, sliding down against the porcelain until the wet shock touched his eyelids and lifted his hair from his scalp. A slow five count and he resurfaced, drawing a shivery breath. His reptilian hindbrain screamed at him for warmth but Crowley denied it. There was greater comfort in this agony than he’d find under a fluffy warm towel.

He shivered and splashed. He contemplated the transitive properties of torment.

Demons were well educated in torment. They had scads of first and secondhand knowledge. As one of the Fallen, Crowley had been part of Hell from its inception. Burnt wings, boiling sulphur, the works. Most of ' _ the works _ ' involved various forms of fire. Hell was all about burning, really. High up there in the list of torments, fire. Crowley had burned for centuries before Eden became  _ a thing. _ Fire had long since lost its bite.

Fire was a part of him now. Flicking a thumb could summon a flame for lighting cigarettes. Crowley could lie down on a bed of glowing coals feeling nothing but warmth. He wouldn't say he’d made  _ friends  _ with fire, but he'd certainly made  _ peace  _ with it.

So it came as a bit of a rude surprise that of all the fresh horrors that could be inflicted upon him, he'd once again be haunted by fire.

The curling of bright paper, blackening under the red glow. The smells books make when turned to so much smoke and ash. The taste of his own throat screamed raw. Fire, large and looming, wrapping around him, blinding in its brightness. The cluttered space (so familiar now strange) illuminated and shrouded all at once. He never found what he was so desperately seeking. The void inside grew with every unanswered call. He never knew how full he’d become until that fire hollowed him out again.

  
  
  


_(You've_ _gone!_ )

  
  
  


It all turned out alright. The books were uncurled and unblackened. The void had filled back in with white feathers and a fussy smile. Days passed, then weeks, then months. His nose had cleared of smoke. His tongue tasted coffee and wine and whiskey without the acrid residue of ash.

Fire had no business tormenting a demon, yet now, every few days, Crowley burned. His mind snapped back to the moment he'd discovered how much he had left to lose. He was deafened by crackling wood. He fell on bruised knees, biting back howls of anguish as thoughts of that smoldering loss burned something tender and vital inside his chest.

He shivered back under water. He would return to this mockery of baptism whenever the fire threatened to consume him. He let the chill seep into his bones. He snuffed the flames, smothering licking reds and yellows with blue lips and chattering teeth. 

Torment was his, always: the inescapable burn, driving a serpent to seek comfort from the cold.

  
  
  
  



End file.
